


Powered

by Classic_Rocker2000, Gizmo_the_Werecrow (orphan_account)



Category: The Beatles (Band), The Rolling Stones, The Who (Band)
Genre: AU, Gen, It's to avoid spoilers for this story, So basically an au, The tags will be huge later on okay?, UUUUHHHH, and, im excited, this is going to be a big one, yeah so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Classic_Rocker2000/pseuds/Classic_Rocker2000, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Gizmo_the_Werecrow
Comments: 13
Kudos: 23





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

LONDON, 1967

It was a rather quiet night, the clouds in the sky slightly obscuring the waning moon. Lights flickered on and off sporadically around the city. Kettles hissed and lightbulbs cracked, but to the citizens there, it was simply business as usual.

A radio flickered on to the touch of a rather tall young man, his glasses framing slightly mischievous brown eyes and resting on a slightly hooked nose.

“Amazing how fast we all got used to these blackouts,” he muttered to no one in particular as he adjusted the radio to get the clearest sound playing. It fizzed and distorted before playing ‘Paint It Black’ in crystal-clear audio.

The young man didn’t notice as another figure entered, the footsteps slightly making the floorboards creak.

“I know you’re there, Paul. If you’re trying to surprise me then think again,” the man called, letting an exasperated sigh escape his lips.

“John...It’s not Paul, It’s me,” the voice called, forcing John to turn around to stare eye to eye with a well-dressed man with coiffed brown hair.

John’s eyes lit right up, letting a smile appear on his face.

“Brian? What brings you here?”

“Just letting you know that you have to leave. It’s time to lock up,” Brian answered while feeling the slightest tinge of a headache come around.

“You okay, Eppy?” John asked as Brian just stood for a moment and winced, looking far into the distance and beyond the window that John sat by.

Brian gave a small smile, one that gave the impression that everything was fine on the outside. Inside, however, it wasn’t fine.

“Just a bit of a headache, nothing to be worried about,” he assured.

John looked out of the window again, watching a street light flicker and pop, another bulb that has gone out on this rather ordinary night in London.

John began to speak out his thoughts. “Just wondering, Eppy, tomorrow is one of the Stones’ birthday. Brian Jones, wasn’t it?. I’m thinking of saying ‘Hi’ to him tomorrow. Nothing else but a friendly hello. Would that be alright?”  
Brian gave a small nod before replying, “I don’t see why not.”

Across London, a blonde-haired man slapped a radio, it refused to play but rather just simply fizz in static once more.

“Work!” He yelled, digging his head into his palms and then combing his fingers through his hair.  
The radio once more gave a hint of music as it faded away then suddenly surged loudly.  
The man’s scream gave way to the opening of the door. In the doorway was a man with wispy brown hair and a rather tired look to his blue eyes.

The blonde-haired man sighed.

“Look if it’s about the….” He started before being cut off.

“Is that radio not working again?”

A nod.

“Mick, I swear ever since the blackouts started. I’ve been getting this really weird noise if i leave at a certain spot”

Mick raised an eyebrow, striding towards near where his friend was. He then winced as a glimmer of pain flickered in his mind, suddenly disappearing like a gentle breeze.

“Brian Jones, are you sure? It could’ve just been static.”

Jones didn’t say anything, instead he just carefully adjusted the dial ever so slightly until it reached to 19.38 in the channels. For a moment, there was silence. Then an odd sound began to fill the room.

//In ipsa hac nocte animam mutantur, nos et dona ut mirum omnibus vobis, et conteram vobis....\\\

Then there silence once more.

Mick was the first to break the silence. 

“What the...What was that?”

Jones, grey-green eyes wide with shock, replied, “I don’t know. I… I think it sounded like a voice speaking in Latin.”

Mick felt one of his eyebrows raise right up. 

“Latin- Jones, that's a dead language!”

Jones stood up and started to walk out. He needed to get some rest for tomorrow

“I know, but.. I just think it means something, you know?”

As the doors closed behind him, Mick stood there for a moment. He sighed and followed suit with Jones.

Later that night

John tossed in his sleep, sweat trickling down his forehead, he muttered and screamed.  
“Gelida!”

At that, ice began to spread from where his hands rested on his bed and across the floors, it then creeped onto the walls then reached the ceiling. Finally it covered his whole body in a frost-like covering.

Across London, lights went out immediately as many fell where they stood, muttering in a once-dead language that felt unused on the tongue.

In the Stones’ house, clouds began to form at the ceiling of Brian Jones’s room. They were dark and heavy clouds that slowly pitter-pattered rain onto the sleeping man on the bed. “Tempestatibus” came right off his tongue.

Tomorrow....everything changes.

To be continued


	2. Waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything has changed now...

As the sun slowly made its way over the horizon on a changed London, John opened his eyes with considerable difficulty. He wasn’t sure why that was, at first, considering he felt well-rested, though John did notice his vision was even blurrier than usual. But when he tried to reach for his glasses, he quickly found that he couldn’t move. 

...What? John wondered, still not realizing what had happened. 

As his eyes darted frantically about, John could feel his muscles tense up, but there was still no movement from his limbs. He couldn’t even compare it to having an elephant sit on him, as even the slightest twitch of a finger was impossible in whatever state he was in. 

As the seconds passed, John was far too panicked to even begin to consider what was going on. He could only comprehend the cold and the immobility that came with it. He didn’t even consider himself claustrophobic, but even an elevator full of people seemed preferable to being stuck in this state. 

John’s mind continued to go a million metres per second as he thought, What’s going on?! I- I can’t move!

Suddenly, just as he started feeling lightheaded, John noticed what appeared to be cracks forming in front of his eyes. 

Although he could still feel his breath coming in panicked gasps, John was able to form one coherent word in his head: ...Ice?!

And then, in a split second, John was able to break free, and he quickly stumbled to his feet and managed to put his glasses on, trying desperately to catch his breath. As he slowly started to regain his senses, John looked around his room, only to find his entire room seemed to be covered in ice, much to his dismay. John managed to mutter between breaths, “More ice?! God, what the hell is happening?!”

And suddenly, John thought of the others. He knew, considering what had just happened, that he needed to check on them. Part of him feared that they might also be frozen in ice, but another part of him knew that, whatever was going on, this might have affected the others in other ways. 

Bracing himself to find the whole house frozen over, John managed to get to his door without sliding all over the ice. Given that the door was frozen over, he spent several minutes struggling to get it open. 

Fortunately, the sight that greeted his eyes was mundane as any other day, even though that raised further questions in John’s mind about what exactly was going on, especially regarding why the hell his room had been covered in ice.  
However, there were more important matters to worry about right now, not the least of which included making sure the others were alright. 

Making his way to George’s room, he slowly, tentatively reached for the door. But almost as soon as his fingers reached the handle, ice spread across the door, almost as if it had been stuck in a flash freezer. John stepped back in shock, but barely five seconds later, the door opened slightly. John nudged it open slightly only to find Geo wasn’t standing there. 

Instead, he found George floating near the ceiling, wide, brown eyes catching sight of John’s.

“I don’t know how this happened,” George managed to say, slightly wincing. “My mind feels like it’s on fire.”

John was far too shocked to say anything beyond, “I woke up frozen solid!”

“Odd,” George muttered, though, the more he thought about it, the more he realized the tiny specks of ice clinging to John’s amber hair made sense. 

“So’s floating,” John deadpanned. 

A split second later, George went tumbling into his mattress, his fall only slightly broken in the process. George let out a quick yelp, before asking, “...You sure this is a dream?”

John had heard once, a very long time ago, that if ever wanted to know if he was dreaming or not, all he had to do was to pinch himself on the shoulder. He found it odd that he’d entirely forgotten that until today, but it seemed worth a shot regardless. Closing his eyes, John winced as he pinched himself on his left shoulder. As he opened his eyes wincing at the pain, everything remained unchanged. He was still standing on his own two feet and George remained right where he was on the bed. “Nope,” was the only response he could even manage to muster. 

Before George could think of anything to say, they both heard a scream coming from Paul’s room. Just as soon as John and George bolted into the hall, they saw Paul running towards them in a half-delirious state. As Paul almost crashed into George, the only words John could make out were, “Girls! ...Animals! …Stay away!”

John was far too shocked for words, but George stepped in, taking Paul by the shoulders and saying, “Paul? Paul! It’s alright! It’s just John and me!”

Paul stopped, taking a few breaths in the process, eyes darting frantically between John and George for a few seconds. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief, saying, with some uncertainty, “Oh, it’s you two?”

Sounding about as uncertain as Paul, John replied, “Yeah…”  
George, on the other hand, nodded and said, “Yep.”

Paul rocked to and fro on his heels, eyeing the other two lads curiously. John’s hair shimmered somewhat with what Paul thought looked like miniscule ice crystals, twinkling in the morning sun. George, however, seemed to be floating just a bit, his feet barely touching the ground, if at all. 

His train of thought was interrupted by John asking, “Paul? What’s the matter?”

Taking a moment or two to catch his breath, Paul replied, “I woke up surrounded by girls and animals! It was like they were all in love with me and-” 

Paul stopped himself as he thought of the one member he hadn’t seen all morning. “Ringo…”

At that moment, Paul could hear a door open from just across the hall, and then a startled shout. Paul’s head whipped around to see Ringo, trembling with fear, clutching to the door frame. A few moments before Ringo yelled, “Who are you people?! ...Better yet, who am I?!”

John paced towards Ringo, being careful about where he stepped. Paul, however, simply tapped his right foot. The gears started to turn in his head as excitement took hold of him. John, meanwhile, reached out to Ringo to try and calm him down, only to step back as his hand was suddenly covered in a layer of ice once more. John could only stare out of fear and confusion, while Ringo looked too shocked to even scream. Looking around some, Paul caught sight of George levitating off the ground just a tad more than he already had been. As the shocked silence continued, Paul was the first to find words: “John… your hand…”

“I know…” John replied. “How…?” 

John was more questioning himself than asking the others, but none of them knew regardless. In a moment of curiosity, he decided to try and move his fingers, if only to know if he were capable of movement in such a state. 

Much to his surprise, he saw all five of his fingers move. “They can move,” John muttered to himself, “But… Why couldn’t I move this morning?”

At that moment, Ringo’s expression seemed to relax, if only slightly. After a few moments, he started glancing around the room, and questioned, “John? What happened to your hand? And George, how are you floating?!”

As John watched the ice melt from his hand, he muttered, “Better yet, what happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” Paul replied. A few moments passed in silence before he continued, “I know this sounds crazy, but…. Superpowers?”  
On any other day, George probably wouldn’t have believed it was possible by any stretch of the imagination. But as he managed to plant his feet on the ground once more, he replied, “Strangely, that seems the most sensible explanation.”

For what would certainly not be the last time that morning, Paul asked, “But how did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” was the only reply John could manage. 

A good thirty seconds passed before Paul let his excitement take him over, “Look, guys, we’re now superheroes! Do you have any idea what that means?!”

“What?” Ringo asked, his voice filled with fear and trepidation. 

“Think about it!” Paul cried, his voice ecstatic. “Ice powers, levitation, and whatever Ringo can do… We could be a team!”

John asked, “You mean like crime fighting?”

“Yeah! We just need to figure out what Ringo can do…”

Ringo only meant to calm Paul down, to tell him to be rational about all this. But the second his hands made contact with Paul’s shoulder, he was hit with a wave of memories that he quickly realized were Paul’s. The second he understood what happened, he muttered, almost imperceptibly, “Wow…”

Paul, a bit confused, asked, “What is it?”

“I can see your memories.”

Paul’s jaw dropped as he looked on in both awe and just a hint of confusion and fear. Imperceptibly to Paul, Ringo altered one memory, and only slightly, of an incident that he remembered hearing about well after the four of them had left Hamburg behind. Paul could, however, tell something was up from the way Ringo’s eyes stared blankly ahead. In as calm a tone as he could muster, Paul asked, “What did you do?”

“I think I changed a memory…” Ringo wasn’t sure how else to explain it to the raven-haired bassist, so he continued, “What do you remember?” 

Paul’s brow furrowed in confusion, before Ringo clarified, “Hamburg, late November 1960.”

“Wow… Pete and I lit one of your drumsticks on fire?”

Ringo shook his head. “Nope. It was a condom.”

“Oh.”

Finally, it came to Ringo in an instant, “Memory alteration… Let me try and fix that real fast.” 

It only took a few seconds before Paul remembered it as he had for six-and-a-half years. Paul incredulously muttered, “That’s insane…”

“It kind of scares me, if I’m honest…”

Everyone remained quiet, not knowing what to say to comfort the drummer. Then Paul, ever the tactful one replied, “Does that mean we can’t wear tights?”

“I-,” George started, meaning to chastise Paul. But he cut himself off as he caught sight of a shade standing just beside John. It was a rather familiar shade at that. “Stu?”

There, in George’s eyes, was a man, standing at 162.56 cm, brown hair hanging in a fringe over his eyes, his clothes reminiscent of days before the Beatles had even been named as such. Stu was simply a man frozen in time whose life had ended too soon.

The moment it left his mouth, John’s eyes seemed to become misty as memories of yesteryear started to come back to him. 

George continued, “I can see him… he’s right next to you John.”

John’s head whipped from side to side, but he saw nothing save for the others and the surrounding hallway. John was only brought back to reality by George saying, “He’s gone now.”

“Oh…” John replied, in disappointment, the pain of Stu’s premature death returning to him once again. 

Before anyone had the chance to say anything else, a confused, concerned look crossed George’s face. “Paul?” he started. “I’m looking into your mind and… some of your costume ideas are really weird.” 

Paul shrugged, a hint of concern on his face as George once more felt his eyes roll back into his skull. And then, Paul suddenly realized the full weight of what George was actually doing. “Wait, you can read minds too?!” Paul yelled.

George ignored him, looking further into Paul’s mind, catching a glimpse of what he could only describe as a disaster in human form. Paul’s hair was long, his bangs short, and he was wearing clothes that were bright and grotty. George could only wince as he shook his head and said, “Paul, really?”

Paul, not sure what George was looking at precisely, defended himself by saying, “Hey, no one would recognize us…”

George exhaled a deep sigh and dug a bit further, seeing a saner idea for them. “Military outfits? And one in pink?” George questioned, recognizing the uniforms from their upcoming album.

Having no better words to explain his thought process, Paul simply shrugged. After a few seconds more, George admitted, “I like it.” As Paul’s mouth dropped open from shock, George, starting to get caught up in the adrenaline rush, continued, “Alright, names now!”

John’s eyes widened in shock. “What?!”

“Well, we’ve got the costumes. Now we need names.”

“No, I get that, but aren’t our lives busy enough without adding crime fighting to the mix?!”

“Relax, John, we’ll be fine.”

Paul walked off, grabbing paper and a pen, and writing as many ideas as he could think of, filling the entire sheet, front and back. 

Meanwhile, Ringo piped up, “But what if someone finds out?” As a chill ran up his spine at the idea of what might happen, he continued, “I don’t like what I’m capable of…”

After a moment of silence, John admitted, “My powers scare me too.” 

As he tried to lean against the wall, he heard the sound of ice cracking. Looking behind him, he could see ice snaking up the wall, and it only stopped a few seconds after John removed his hand. As he stared out of shock and fear, John lamented, “God, at this rate I probably couldn’t even shake someone’s hand. What if I freeze someone?!”

Paul, having overheard John, wondered, mostly to himself, “How do my powers work? Is it conscious or subconscious?”

Paul strolled back to his room, carefully opening the door. Fortunately, the sight that greeted his eyes was mundane as ever, sans a few feathers scattered about the floor and the open window. 

“Conscious, then,” Paul said, allowing himself to breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

A few seconds passed before John spoke again, “Maybe we should figure out how our powers work before we jump into it.”

Glancing first at John, then back to his room, Paul said, “So, I can charm people and animals.”

“I have seemingly uncontrollable ice powers,” John replied.

“Extrasensory perception,” George piped up. 

Ringo was the last to speak, if nervously. “Memory manipulation.”

“Rather diverse set of abilities,” Paul said.

“Yeah,” John muttered. Wandering off, he walked over to the sink and decided to grab a glass of water. However, before he even had the chance to take a small sip, he saw the glass freeze over.

For a brief moment in John’s mind, a wisp of fog appeared; it looked a bit like a man but not exactly close to it at all. It disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

John didn't give it a second thought. Instead, he thought to himself, God, I hope there's some way to control this!

As he tried to get another glass, he decided this time to take deep breaths. Mostly, it was to calm his nerves after what had by and large been a stressful morning, but part of him also hoped it might be the key to controlling his new powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the upcoming next chapter was supposed to be one big chapter but the problum was is that it would've made it feel like a plot dump rather then a chapter, so it was split to allow time to sink in while we work on the next chapter.


	3. Figuring it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads figure out a bit more about their newfound abilities.

John looked down at the glass in his hand, the ice reflecting the frustration that blossomed in his eyes. It reminded him far too much of the tale of Midas’s touch. He felt an exasperated sigh cloud his glasses until the lenses were completely clouded over. Continuing to try and calm his nerves, John set the frozen glass off to the side, got a fresh glass, and waited a few seconds to see what would happen. glass of water. He took a rather deep breath in, closing his eyes tight as he began to sip on the water.

Not one bit of ice nor frost covered the new glass at all.

Finally, John was able to breathe a sigh of relief, while George opined, “It seems to be based on emotions.”

Paul, having been observing the scene curiously, also added his two pence, “Yeah. It seems to act up when you’re stressed.”

John nodded, before something else came to mind and he asked, partly to himself and partly towards George, “What’s the extent of ESP?”

George shrugged, trying to comprehend the sheer extent of what he was capable of. The only way of knowing was by the simple way of trial and error. George’s only response was to say, “I’ll just have to figure it out as I go. There’s got to be a limit, but I don’t know how to find that out without experimenting”

“I think no matter what we can and can’t do, I think we’ll all be figuring that out as time goes on,” Ringo chimed in. 

A worrying thought began to enter John’s mind, he found it rather odd that they all had gained abilities at around the same time. He wondered for a moment if whatever had happened to them was happening to other people as well. 

“Should we tell Eppy?” Paul’s voice brought John back into reality. 

John sighed, before saying, “Probably. Otherwise, I might end up freezing the entire studio at a really bad time. Besides, even then, I wouldn’t know how else to explain it if, say, Paul’s powers acted up and the studio was suddenly filled with fawning girls- if not animals, too”

Paul nodded in agreement, as did Ringo. Finally, after a moment of pause, George said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”  
***  
At the studio it was rather quiet considering what was happening everywhere else in London. Aside from the fact that they had powers, not one of them found anything odd to note or react to. Paul was happily chattering away to Ringo about the elements of comic books he’d read as a child while George led the group to the entrance of the studio.  
“I don’t get it Paul, you expect that there’s going to be a villain somehow in the next week or so?” Ringo asked, watching Paul run straight past George like an excited puppy to its owner.

“Yeah! So we can test these abilities out in the field. It’ll be fine as long as it’s an easy villain to deal with and not connected to us in any way shape or form. I don’t know how I could handle that if that ever happened.”

Paul rushed right up the stairs, skidding a bit right in front of a door, he tapped his right foot impatiently waiting for his friends to catch up. He knew that if they told Eppy, there would be no turning back, but as John had said, Paul knew it’d be better if he found out now, rather than wait for a day where otherwise inexplicable events occurred.  
\---

In the office, unseen by the single occupant, a wisp of darkness moved before simply fading away into the rest of the inky black that it came from.

Brian looked through some of the documents on his desk, the failures of his other groups that weren’t the Beatles weighing on his mind. Also heavy on his mind was the rather recent decision to end touring. He had faith in his boys, sure, but he also wasn’t sure how the upcoming album would do without a tour to back it up. 

A knock on the door caused him to ignore these rather troubling thoughts, burying them once more and pretending everything was fine in his own life, professional and personal alike. Trying desperately to hide his nerves, Brian asked, “Yes?”

Speaking of the boys, John, Paul, George, and Ringo all quietly made their way in. 

John rocked on his heels a bit, thinking if they should just tell him straight away or simply allude to it before ripping off the bandaid about it all. John watched George give a slight nod to him, a flash of red in the eyes appearing for a moment.

Meanwhile, Brian, having no indication of what their morning had been like, simply said, “Hello boys.”

John’s reply was short, but similarly courteous, “Hey, Bri.”

Finally noticing the glances of concern that the four exchanged with each other, Brian’s brow furrowed, as he asked, “Something the matter boys?”

Paul seemed about to speak, but George could already tell that if he let Paul speak, it would take all morning to explain. Instead, he spoke, bluntly saying, “Brian, I know this is going to sound crazy, but we woke up with superpowers” 

Paul started to look around the place wildly. He could see Eppy’s eyes grow wide as his brow furrowed again. He could already tell Eppy didn’t believe what he’d just heard from George’s mouth, but also knew there was no way not to explain all this to him now. 

Brian stared at the four of them in disbelief for several more seconds, before asking, “Really?”

Even as the four of them nodded, more or less in unison, Brian assumed that the four of them were pulling his leg, possibly having a bit of fun. Granted, claiming to have somehow gained superpowers in the middle of the night would be highly unusual for a group of boys in their mid-twenties, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility either. He nervously decided to play along in case it was just a simple joke which John dreamed up. Resuming an expression of utmost seriousness, he continued, “What can you do?”

John didn’t say a thing, instead he approached the desk and laid his hands on it, a couple of seconds passed before ice began to spread from his hands and across the desk, covering the whole thing in ice barely a minute after first touching it.

Brian backed up from the desk in both shock and alarm. Any illusions he’d had of this being an elaborate joke were quickly evaporating in front of his eyes. There was simply no other feasible explanation for how this could even happen without it involving unnatural abilities. Part of him wanted to ask if John could do the same to people, but he kept quiet, dreading any of the possibilities. 

Ringo piped up “Weird, right?”

Brian, still almost shocked beyond words, barely managed to mutter, “To say the least…”

Paul happily piped up, “I can charm people and animals...can’t really demonstrate it now though.”

Brian looked disconcerted at that. 

George however lifted the table right up, watching the shocked reactions on all the others' faces appear as he slammed it to the ground with quite some force.

“No limits,” was all he said.

“That we know of,” Paul added.

Ringo approached Eppy carefully, a single touch giving access to all the frightened man’s memories, a part of Ringo wanted to delve deeper, to see why Brian was the way he was so that he could help him.

Instead, he only modified the memory of the desk being covered in ice so that to Brian, it wouldn’t look frozen over. 

Even so, that didn’t assuage Brian’s fears much at all. He said, in a quiet trembling voice that seemed more directed towards himself, “Ringo…”

Ringo hated that there wasn’t much of anything he could say to reassure Brian that he’d be okay. He could only bring himself to say, “I know.”

It was the only way Ringo could think of to show, in so many words, that he understood why Brian was scared. 

A few moments passed in a tense silence, no one having much of an idea of what to say or do. Finally, Brian asked the one logical question still on his mind. 

“Are you four going to take up crime fighting?”

“Well, we were kind of discussing it earlier…” John admitted. 

John could have sworn that something moved in the corner of his eyes. It was the sort of movement that grabs one’s attention and yet didn’t warrant enough to require further investigation.

Meanwhile, Brian frowned, before finally saying, “Why don’t you four just figure out how your powers work first?”

John thought about it for a second, the worrying implications that bewitched his mind before coming back again to haunt him.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s going to be a twist here? That whatever’s happened to us happened to more people?”

Brian thought about his morning. There hadn’t been anything unusual or strange that he could tell the four lads that he could think of off the top of his head. 

“Boys, I’m sure that what has happened to you four hadn’t happened to me,” Brian assured them then adding under his breath “That headache is gone though.”

Paul added, “Yeah, I think John’s just saying that because that’s how it usually works in comics.”

Ringo started to head to the exit, slowly trying to comprehend still what he could do now. Part of him also was worried for Eppy. Even if he hadn’t been affected by this, who’s to say this couldn’t happen to him in the future? Still, he kept his concerns to himself, not wanting to add any further troubles to Eppy’s mind.

Paul ran ahead past Ringo, his head swimming with how he could utilise his charm abilities, dragging John in tow, George rolled his eyes and turned to Brian

“Paul has been like this the whole morning.”

At that, he left the manager to his thoughts.

For some time after the door was shut, Brian thought how he would’ve dealt with waking up with powers. What would he do? He silently prayed to whatever powers that be that he hadn’t. His primary concern was mainly just that he didn’t have the slightest idea what he would do with powers.

He just sighed, and then...

Something from the corner of his eyes moved, dancing and flickering in and out of view till he sat right up in shock, searching for the source of the movement which bewitched his eyes.  
Fear quickly took centre stage in his eyes as the movement revealed itself to him.

It was the silhouette of what appeared to be a young woman, void of nothing and everything, taking space that it should’ve never taken up, similar to a black hole. 

A shadow…

“M...M...Master.”

Brian stood up, taking a couple of steps back, the voice and noise that the shadow made gave the impression of a lady but it couldn’t be that. It was an impossibility, and Brian had had quite enough of that for one day. 

He rubbed his eyes a bit to see if the hallucination would just disappear.

But it didn’t. It stayed in the office, staring at the frightened man with what he could only guess were eyes to him.

“Master?” as it escaped his lips, something started to gnaw at the back of his mind. A bit like a fog and yet it seemed to feel more alive then not.

“You created me master. Gave me life unconsciously, my name is what you shall give me…”

The shadow walked around Brian, leering up and down at him, brushing her strangely solid hands through his hair and then smiling at the now confused man.

“Kind, but prideful...Are you a villain, master?”

Brian felt the strange fog in his mind grow, form into something else. The eyes flashed a pure black for a moment as he began to smirk.

“...”

The shadow lady filled the silence in for him.

“Shall the night choose for you? All I need is your word master.”

“...”

The shadow lady smiled.

“I’ll take that as a yes, master.”

The dark consumed the man as an inky black void slowly spread out into the rest of the building. A slight chuckle morphed to laughter.  
\---  
Downstairs, Paul was running off to get the costumes as the other three looked over the long list of names that Paul wrote in an uncharacteristically messy scrawl. John squinted as he noted how strangely dark the room was starting to get. Tentatively, he asked, “Guys, is it just me, or is the room getting darker?”

Ringo sat up, blue eyes wide with shock. He knew there were at least several explanations for this, and absolutely none of the possibilities were good. 

There was trilling of a lady’s voice, soft yet almost showman like as the room grew even darker

“Make way! Make way for my master!”

Shadows continued to fill the room until it was almost all-encompassing. But somewhere, at the very edge of John’s field of vision, John thought he saw a figure. He was dressed in a dark grey suit with silver embroidery lining the sides of the jacket, reminding John of the matadors he and Eppy had seen in Spain four years. But what made John figuratively freeze up wasn't so much the mask, which sported a terrifying grin, but rather what seemed to be, even though John could barely see anything in these shadows, a single lock of curly, brown hair poking out from one of the sides. 

“...Brian?!”


	4. The lord of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now for a battle...

Part of John knew it was the only logical answer.. Brian had, after all, was the only other person in the studio. Despite the radical difference in the clothes and the mask, it pointed at only one conclusion. Part of him also didn’t want to accept it. After all, this was Brian they were talking about- the man who had believed in them and supported them from day one. 

“I’m not that….that…man anymore, should he even be called that? I mean, he wasn’t really one, right, maybe a different name would be better for me? I know! Umbra Regem.”

The voice behind the mask was tinged with malice and hatred, but to whom John couldn’t quite figure out. The man he’d known for five years now had never once expressed hatred toward anyone, not even during his hellish tempers.

Paul, meanwhile, still couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He froze, muttering and whimpering to himself about how he’d spoken too soon.

A candle from afar lit right up, giving a small flicker of light to what was now an inky void of a room, the dark recoiled and screeched from the simple fire. George knew exactly who was responsible.

“Pyrokinesis” He muttered. Part of him realized he should have considered it a possibility sooner, but being shocked all the same that he could actually create fire with so much as a thought.

Meanwhile, Ringo shuddered at the screeching sounds, thinking, Well, I’m gonna have nightmares tonight. 

“Umbra Regem...That’s Latin.” Paul muttered, confused at how Brian would suddenly know it. “Latin for ‘shadow king’”

John looked at Paul, part of him wanting to question how Paul would remember a language they hadn’t been taught regularly since grammar school, but then John remembered how he’d shirked many, many classes in those days, and decided not to question it. 

Umbra Regem walked right up to John, the empty mask reflecting malicious intent that was now on full display.

“Hm...Oh...you’ll do, oh Moxie! Get him!”

John raised an eyebrow at this

“Moxie?”

Umbra Regem stepped aside to reveal what, so far as John could see in the near total absence of light, was the silhouette of a young woman, complete with what appeared to be a bob cut and a mod-style dress. 

“He made a bird out of shadows?!”

Part of John desperately wanted to question everything he was seeing now, but after everything else that had happened in roughly two hours, he knew he wouldn't get any answers just asking questions. 

Right now, Eppy was the bigger concern. 

Before John could give it any more thought, he felt himself being knocked to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs. 

“GOD! That hurts!”

Umbra Regem just smiled, he walked past John and started to head to the door. John knew that if he walked out that door, they might lose him for good.

“Brian!” Paul cried out, hoping that he could talk some sense into their manager without resorting to violence. The last thing he wanted to do in a million years was cause any physical harm to the man who’d stood by them for just over five years now. 

Brian, meanwhile, acted as if he couldn’t hear Paul. a slight hint of a tear leaking out of the mask, all that pain in a single drop. Paul could sense there was still something of Brian still in there, but the only question was of how to reach him. 

“There’s probably others like me out there, I just have to find them. I don’t know what I would do when or if I find them but hey, nobody’s perfect...right, George?”

George telepathically transmitted one word to his friends:

“Dammit”

At that the dark began to hold him back, screeching and trilling as they tugged at his body, trying to find the exact amount of force to fulfil their master’s thoughts. Out of sheer desperation, George caused several more candles to light up. It didn’t make much of a difference as to how dark the room still was, but he felt the shadows’ grip loosen on him just enough for him to escape. 

“How did he know I was there?!” George yelled, mostly to himself more than his three friends. 

Ringo stood there, watching all the chaos around him, he wondered how they could stop Eppy or…

“I got it.”

John was still getting pummelled by creatures made of shadows, but he managed to hear Ringo through the commotion and looked at him with wide eyes. He screamed, “Ringo, what on earth are you doing?!”

Ringo shot a small glare at John to indicate that he didn’t want his presence to be known. As quiet as he could, he brushed fingertips on Umbra Regem’s uniform, praying that he wouldn’t feel even the slightest touch.

“...there”

Memories started flowing through his mind almost like film reels. He could see minor events he felt tempted to modify but couldn’t. After all, what was more important, in this moment, was getting Brian to snap out of it. He could only keep looking and praying that he wouldn’t be noticed. 

“Please let this work.”

But before he could really start modifying that small handful of memories, he heard a cruel voice shout, “Get out!”

The dark pushed Ringo back right to a wall, pain coursing through his whole body.

“RINGO!” John cried out. Unnoticed by him, ice started to form around his arms unconsciously with each hit that he took from Moxie. 

Ringo, meanwhile, coughed a bit, feeling a pain in his ribs. It was too soon for him to tell if he’d cracked a rib, but he knew he’d be sore the next day. Part of him was scared to try again, having a better understanding of just what Eppy was capable of in this maddened state. At the same time, he also knew that he didn’t have any other choice. If he didn’t try again, they could lose him, perhaps forever. 

“Why do you all want to help me?” was all that Umbra Regem could say, trying to comprehend how these...Idiots kept on throwing themselves at him, expecting a different result.

Ringo was lost for words. He still could barely comprehend that any of this had happened, let alone to anyone he knew.  
“It’s because we care.” Ringo paused for a few moments, before adding, “I don’t wanna leave you like this, nor do the rest of us. ...I’ve seen your past. Why didn’t you tell us any of this?”

The man cloaked in shadows said nothing, the memories almost too painful to address even in this madness. Yet, more of the night began to push on Ringo as Umbra fell to his knees. Memories starting to eat at him.

John’s arms were now completely covered in ice, his words punctuated by the increasingly hard punches that Moxie performed.

“Ringo. What. do. You. mean?!”

Ringo couldn’t say, he couldn’t speak. The air being crushed out of him from the strangely solid dark.

From outside to anyone observing, they would've seen the whole building being consumed by the dark and the shadows, no one however was there to see this, and yet a single stone moved as if it was kicked by some unseen force.

Presently, Ringo fell back to the floor, gasping for breath. Feeling the pressure on his chest lessen to a degree, he at first wondered how he was still alive and more importantly, how he was able to get out of it. 

But then he stopped himself from asking any questions. He had another opportunity to save Eppy, and he would be damned if he didn’t take that chance. 

Not even bothering with the element of surprise now, Ringo rushed right towards Umbra. Diving right at the surprised man. Just a single touch and maybe….  
“An accident is doing it once, an idiot is doing it twice and expecting a different result”

Once more Ringo was pushed right back by the shadows, this time being pinned to the ground with no way at all to even move an inch. Umbra regem approached the prone man, squatting down to let Ringo see eye to eye at the mask which Umbra wore.

“You wouldn’t Eppy, I know you’re still there. Right?”

He didn’t respond. 

“Oh Ringo...if only it worked like in a story. GGAH!”

He was cut off as Ringo managed to lay a hand on his hand, memories flowing through once more. Umbra went silent as the night receded from the studio. 

When Ringo next opened his eyes, he could see Brian lying unconscious on the floor beside him, a peaceful expression on his face.  
“Hey! Brian! Wake up!”

Brian groaned, sitting up with one of his hands on his forehead. He looked around the place while taking in the state of disarray that it was suddenly in.

“Ringo? What happened here?”

For a solid minute, no one said anything. None of the boys wanted to be the one to tell him that the current state of the studio had been caused by him, and especially not the fact that Ringo might have cracked a rib in the chaos.

Finally, John piped up, settling on a half-truth. “We were attacked by a supervillain.”

Brian’s eyes went wide, worry now in his voice.

“Are you boys alright?”

Paul nodded, rocking on his heels while continuing on from John, disappointed that he hadn’t been able to do much.

“You were knocked out though and uhh...ummm...uhh, it confirmed John’s worries about others out there having abilities.”

John sighed, thinking about who else out there could have powers, even worse, who had gone mad due to it.

Paul clapped his hands together, smiling. He wanted to edge away from this topic ASAP, instead they still needed to do one thing.

“Names!”

“We’re really worrying about that now, after what’s just happened?” George sighed, a note of exasperation in his voice. 

Ringo, wanting desperately to get his mind off the past thirty minutes, happily piped up, “I already got mine! Billy Shears!”

John thought for a moment, mumbling out ideas that he had for a name, ice creeping up his legs while doing so.

“I don’t know. Mr. Kite, maybe?”

George didn’t even say anything, Paul’s suggestions were rather...odd to him anyway. 

“Hazza”

Paul just stood there, four pairs of eyes now staring right at him. Honestly he’d never thought of a name for himself.

“Faul.”

“That doesn’t sound much like a superhero name,” John said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, it’ll do for now,” Paul replied, slightly annoyed. 

“Well if we’re going to do this, how about a name for the team? I guess Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?”

Paul once more clapped his hands together, grinning from ear to ear excitedly. 

“That’s perfect John!”

The moment he said that, he went off to grab the costumes that he was interrupted in doing earlier. Suddenly feeling like he was being watched, he turned behind him, only to see nothing except for the other four. 

“John? Didn’t you say that you were going to meet up with Brian Jones today?” Brian asked.

“Yeah. God, I hope he wasn’t affected by this.”

\---

Earlier

When Brian Jones woke up, everything was drenched in water. When he looked up, he could see what appeared to be a small rain cloud hovering above his bed. 

“Okay, whoever did this, you really outdid yourselves this time,” Brian muttered, more than a little annoyed with whatever prank his mates had decided to pull on him this time. 

He sat up to the sound of the door being nudged open. There was an average-sized brown/black cat, its medium-length fur a little bit scraggly and soft-looking. Brian gave it a confused look, assuming that one of the Stones had decided to adopt a cat earlier this morning and not tell him (which was honestly their business). Or maybe they’d gotten him a cat for his birthday despite him being a dog person. 

“Hey there...uhhhh, you’re new.”

He carefully reached for the cat, expecting it to sniff his hand before allowing him to pat its head.

“Brian!”

Brian jumped about ten feet out of his skin. That was Keith’s voice, maybe he was nearby throwing his voice just to mess with him. After all, cats didn’t talk. At least, they weren’t supposed to. 

“Okay, Keith, if you’re the one behind this, bravo but…”

A scream cut him off, one that sounded from afar and yet was none other than Mick. Brian froze up for several seconds, half-debating with himself whether he should try and figure out what the hell was going on. 

He ran straight towards the source of the scream. In the bathroom, there stood Mick. The first thing Brian noticed was the small horns poking out from either side of his head. 

“What happened to me!”


	5. Across London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we check in on the Stones and the Who. Much insanity ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to stress that this isn't reflective of how either of us view anyone involved. 
> 
> CW: Pete has powers here that allow for wound transferal. Self-harm warning just in case.

Brian had absolutely no idea what was going on this particular morning. He was more than a little convinced he was either on an LSD trip- which did seem likely, all things considered- or that he was still sleeping and having one of the most bizarre dreams of his life. Between the sudden weather patterns in his room, talking cat, and Mick having horns and a tail, Brian felt that him being stuck in a crazy dream was the most plausible explanation. 

Mick was staring at himself still, poking at the tiny horns that now graced his head. He honestly looked too frightened to make a peep, aside from the shaky breaths that escaped his lungs. 

Keith, in a trembling voice, piped up, “Don’t even get me started on the tail.”

Brian looked behind his shoulder, but saw no one standing there. Looking down, he saw only the cat to his left. Briefly, he wondered if Keith had also been affected by this drug trip just like he and Mick. He could hear Mick starting to hyperventilate, so he turned his attention back towards the brunette. Mick was holding his tail in one hand, feeling a now-pointy ear with the other. For the second time in less than five minutes, Mick asked, “What’s happened to me?”

Before Brian could say anything else, he heard a yelp beside him. Upon turning to his left, he saw Keith, sprawled out on the floor right where the cat had been just seconds before.

By now, Brian was torn between screaming or starting with the flurry of questions. 

Mick, on the other hand, let out a startled scream before backing up a hair. He took several moments to catch his breath, before asking, “Aside from me, what’s happened to you two?”

Before Brian could find his voice, Keith replied, “I woke up this morning, everything seemed bigger for some reason, and then when I tried to stretch, I found paws in the place of my hands!”

_ That explains where that cat came from,  _ Brian thought, starting to become a bit numb to the situation. A few more moments passed, before he said, “I woke up to find it raining in my room. ...I honestly thought it was you guys playing a prank, or that I was on drugs.”

“Brian, no offense, but a, you’re almost always on drugs, and b, you really think Mick and I have the capabilities to pull something like that off?!”

“I guess not.” Part of Brian wanted to point out the obvious hypocrisy in that Keith had recently been arrested for letting his home be used for drug use, but he kept his mouth shut.

Mick, waving his hands a slight bit, said, “Okay, so you two have powers of some sort, but how does that relate to me?!” 

“Come to think of it, you do look kind of like a demon,” Keith snarked. 

Mick looked like he was internally dying after hearing that. Collecting himself, he said, “I hope this hasn’t affected Bill or Charlie…”

Almost as if he’d jinxed the situation, an alarm clock sounded in Charlie’s room, followed by an explosion, then some choice curse words, and finally another explosion. 

A few seconds later, Keith asked, “What the hell was that?!”

“I kind of want to know, but at the same time, I don’t,” Brian muttered.

Keith was already halfway out of the door, saying, “It wouldn’t hurt finding out!” 

Shortly after, they found Charlie, sitting on the floor. He looked somewhat dazed, but the worst part was how the bed and the end table were both completely reduced to splinters. Mick, almost in shock, asked, “Charlie? Are you okay?”

Charlie blinked, before slowly turning his head towards them. “I… I think so. ...Sorry about the swearing.”

“Never mind that!” Brian shouted. “What the hell happened?!”

“I’m not sure,” Charlie said, surveying the damage. “I was just trying to turn the alarm off when the table blew up. ...I think the rest is rather obvious.”

“Wait,” Keith started. “If your room looks like this, then how in the bloody hell are you uninjured?!”

“I don’t know about that either. Immunity, I guess?” As Mick continued looking around the place, looking like he was going to have a heart attack at any moment, Charlie asked, “Does anyone know what happened to Bill?”

“Hopefully better than the rest of us,” Brian muttered. 

Several moments later, a startled yelp caught Brian’s attention. Upon turning around, he saw Bill, standing just behind him with wide eyes. After a few moments of shocked silence, Bill started, “First of all, why does Mick look like a demon, and second, what on earth happened to Charlie’s room?!”

“Believe me, the rest of us would love to know,” Mick said snidely. 

Part of Bill wanted desperately to know what was going on and part of him didn’t. Still, looking upon his changed lead singer, Bill at least wanted to attempt to reassure Mick that things would be alright. But when he touched Mick’s shoulder, the more demonic features disappeared, leaving Mick looking the same as he had the day before. Mick’s eyes widened with horror as he watched the same features appear on Bill, with no scream or wince of pain- just shocked confusion. 

It didn’t take rocket science to figure out what was happening. Nor did it take long before a small rain cloud formed over the group.

Bill felt out the small horns, looking straight ahead, beyond the group and out of the window.  He absent-mindedly grabbed a hold of Mick again. Just as quickly, Mick resumed the horns, ears, and tail. 

“What the hell happened  _ out  _ there?” Bill muttered.

Looking outside, one could see the occasional shimmer of light in the sky that was completely inexplicable by natural phenomena. “I have no idea,” Brian started. “Worse yet, the papers probably aren’t going to say anything until tomorrow,  _ if  _ that.”

Several moments passed, the room eerily quiet, before Brian continued, “So, if I haven’t got anything confused here, I can control the weather, Keith can shapeshift, Mick’s part demon or something, Charlie can blow shit up, and Bill can potentially steal all our powers.”

Quiet nodding followed. 

At that point, Brian began to realize there was a sort of… potential with his abilities. “Awesome.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mick muttered, looking displeased at Brian’s newfound enthusiasm. 

“We should let Andrew know,” Bill cut in. There was an obvious logic there in that letting Andrew know now would easily explain otherwise inexplicable injuries, absences, or storm surges in the studio. 

The door downstairs opened, the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs followed. They gave way to Andrew, eyeing the whole group up and down.

Mick was the first one to speak up. “Hey, Andrew.”

Brian, meanwhile, had more than a few questions swirling through his head. Namely wondering how Andrew had gotten in despite the fact the door had been locked last night and why Andrew wasn’t freaking out. Something felt off, especially about the strange look in Andrew’s eyes. And all Brian managed to do was shift uncomfortably where he stood. 

None of them saw the crowbar hidden under Andrew’s jacket. 

Even so, Mick was growing rather concerned as the seconds passed and Andrew said nothing. Eventually, he asked, “Andrew? Are you alright?”

Before Mick even had a second to react, he felt a blinding pain as something hit him in the head. He collapsed to the floor, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness. He could hear yelling around him, but it was muted by the ringing in his ears. As if his morning couldn’t get any worse, he also felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of him, making it very hard to breathe as well. 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, sprawled out on the floor, trying to catch his breath, but eventually, the world came back into focus. Keith was there, helping Mick back to his feet. The first thing Mick heard from Keith was, “Are you okay?”

Groaning a bit, Mick replied, “No, I just got hit in the head with… Fuck, I don’t even know what that was.”

“One, it was a crowbar and two, I honestly don’t know what happened there.” Keith started talking, turning into a cat mid-sentence.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to that,” Mick muttered, holding a hand to his head. He was honestly surprised his skull didn’t feel fractured, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.

Brian picked up Keith, holding him up in a way that made the cat look really long. He said,  “Look what we need to do is find Andrew and talk him down. I guess seeing us all like this made him go nuts”

Keith smirked.  “Does this mean we can wear costumes?” 

“If we are, let’s worry about that after we find him,” Mick said. 

At that point, Charlie came running back. Out of breath, he barely managed to get out, “Bill and I were tracking him, but then he turned invisible and we lost him.” 

“Shit, how on earth are we supposed to find him now?!” Admittedly, Brian had no contingency plans for what they’d do once they found him, considering he was armed and dangerous. Still, it was better than not trying at all. 

At that point, Charlie and Mick looked at Keith. Even if he could only turn into a cat, the chance that his sense of smell was better in this form was rather tantalizing.

“Alright then!” Keith yelled, running off “I think he went outside!”

Charlie nodded. “He did, yeah. We managed to follow him for a few yards before he turned a corner and vanished.”

“He can’t have gone too far,” Brian said, mostly thinking aloud. 

“Is Bill still out there?” Mick asked. 

“Yeah, I told him to wait at the street corner where we lost him,” Charlie said.

"Well, then we've got no time to waste!" Keith said. 

With that, the four of them ran out into a world that was inexorably changed. 

***

When Roger woke up, it was to the all-too-familiar sound of an explosion. Groaning in utter frustration, Roger covered his ears with his pillow. “Really Moonie?! God, it’s seven A.M.!” he shouted. This wouldn’t be the first time Moonie had pulled something like this, but Roger had barely slept the night before, so the intrusion was especially unwelcome. 

As if in response, another explosion rang out.

He got up out of bed, getting changed while more explosions punctuated the actions. He groaned and brought his head right back. He had so many things to worry about and this could get them kicked out, again.

“I know that you have a lot of cherry bombs to go through but-”

The door to Moonie’s room was wide open, though that in and of itself was a massive understatement. It was blown off the hinges, splinters littering the floor around him. The metal hinges were barely hanging on the frame, and the doorknob was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s it!”

Roger stormed into Moonie’s room, while trying to figure out how the hell he was going to tell Moonie he couldn’t use cherry bombs anymore.

Then he stopped in his tracks.

Moonie was sitting on the couch dressed as if he was going to a fancy restaurant, his hair groomed back. He looked like he didn’t care while Pete was already scolding him.

“Keith John Moon, what the hell you were thinking?!”

Roger froze. Pete obviously got to Moonie first, but something felt off about Moonie’s eyes. They looked more manic than usual, if that was even possible for their drummer.

“Watch this…”

Moonie went and tapped a glass.

Three seconds passed, and nothing happened. Roger could feel his eyes roll back into his skull. “It’s not like anything is going to-”

The glass exploded before Roger could finish his sentence, leaving his ears ringing. He could hear Pete yelling, Keith saying something that he couldn’t make out, then finally, his ears started to clear up. When he looked up again, Keith was gone. 

Despite glass shards being everywhere, Pete looked unharmed from the sudden blast. Roger had a few minor cuts on his arms and one on his forehead, but they didn’t seem deep enough to need stitches. “Pete? What the hell just happened?!” he screamed.

“I have no idea,” Pete replied, frustration lacing his voice. 

A sound began to fill the air, it was a bass guitar. It mattered not what it was playing but who it was coming from. More specifically, it was Enty.

Done in his typical, upright, violin style of playing. He was wearing shades despite being indoors, and he was clad in one of his stage costumes.

“Enty! This isn’t the time to practise-” Roger started before he noticed his surroundings starting to get brighter. “Wait… I thought it was cloudy today...”

A bright flash of light blinded the two. Roger blinked a couple of times, when his vision cleared, Enty was nowhere to be seen. He felt as if he could just scream at the world. The fact that they had both witnessed two of their friends going insane, and not to mention how impossible this situation was to begin with was almost incomprehensible.

Finally, Roger noticed Pete. “Pete? Why are you staring at your hands? You’re fine. Right?”

Pete didn’t really say anything. He stood there for a little while, staring at his hands, which by all logic, were supposed to be cut and grazed, in absolute confusion. He muttered, “It doesn’t make sense, I… The blast, the glass and… Wait… What if?”

Pete grabbed a glass shard, bringing it down on his left hand, no reaction nor hesitation to do so.

He didn’t scream. Roger yelled, “Pete, what the fuck?!”

“Look at that! Look at my hand!” Pete cried in absolute horror and yet Roger swore he heard a bit of… joy? Euphoria? He couldn’t quite tell.

Pete muttered something underneath his breath before stabbing his hand again.

Roger screamed.

Pete didn’t notice as Roger backed off in fear. He didn’t care as Roger ran off to find a bandage. He could only run to his room, he needed something a little more...appropriate for now.

\---

Roger couldn’t believe what was outside. The streets were already deserted aside from a few stragglers hiding in absolute fear. There were some scattered about that were what he could swear to be...

He gagged.

There were bodies. Actual dead bodies. He closed his eyes to wake himself from what had to be a nightmare.

When he opened them again, he was greeted by the same disturbing scene.

“This isn’t a nightmare…” Roger realized. “This is reality... Oh god…”

He ran. To where he did not know, but he would run as long as it brought him somewhere safe. As long as it brought him as far away from the horrors that were now etched into his brain.

\---

Paul was carrying an armful of clothes, a wide grin on his face. He laid out three of the four costumes, running into another room to get change.

John leaned over to George and asked, “Considering that you can lift things up, could you see the future.”

George said, “At this point in time, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Meanwhile, Ringo was sitting near Brian, mostly making sure he was okay after what had transpired earlier. From what he saw now, Brian looked okay, if somewhat confused, but Ringo knew eventually, Brian’s powers would come back to the surface. He just hoped that the next time, Brian wouldn’t lose his mind. 

“It’s all going to be okay Eppy.”

Brian glanced at Ringo, but looked uncertain. The last he knew, he was finding out the boys had powers now (which was still a lot to take in), and somehow, he’d ended up unconscious on the floor. The gap in his memory made absolutely no sense, but there was a part of him too afraid to question it. 

Paul burst through the doors, interrupting the manager’s train of thought. He was dressed in his military blue uniform. With a flourish, he threw the red tricorn hat at george. 

“You’re really into the idea of this whole superhero thing,” George said. 

Admittedly, the band’s youngest member had some reservations, despite the fact that his powers were so vast. He went off to get changed while telekinetically tossing the green and pink uniform to John and Ringo respectively. “Right then, let’s get this over and done with,” George said.

Ringo held back for a bit, letting John and George get changed. His main concern right now was making sure Brian was okay. Of course, he knew the others were worried about him, but they were currently preoccupied with distracting themselves. 

Brian picked up Ringo’s hat. “So, Ringo? What was this villain like? Why did he attack this place?”

Ringo froze. There was no way in hell he wanted to be the one to tell Brian that he’d been the one to attack them, but he also knew that Brian would figure it out eventually. 

It was something Paul was questioning as well. As John walked out in his lime green uniform, Paul mouthed, “Should we tell him?”

John made a quick swipe across the neck.

Ringo saw the gesture as well, but part of him questioned John’s judgement. Either way, there was a risk that Brian would lose his mind again, but Ringo knew that keeping it quiet would result in something horrible.

The thought weighed on his mind as he got changed, slipping his hat on. He had no idea how he was even supposed to approach the subject with Eppy without freaking him out too much (easier said than done), but he wasn’t looking forward to round two. He still had no idea if his ribs were bruised or cracked, and he already didn’t want to know what would happen the next time Umbra Regem made an appearance. 

Paul clapped his hands together, before saying, “I swear under the name of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, that we shall always be in uniform till our next foe!”

  
  
There was silence for a little while before John broke it with a deadpan, “What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this took so bloody long. I plan to have the next chapter up a lot sooner than this. Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.


End file.
